


Untitled Asexual Spencer Reid Commentfic

by Jeshyr



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-04
Updated: 2010-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-17 14:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2312702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeshyr/pseuds/Jeshyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Dreamwidth asexual_fandom commentfic meme, originally posted at: http://asexual-fandom.dreamwidth.org/5802.html?thread=125610</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Asexual Spencer Reid Commentfic

The week you moved in with Spence he buys a programmable coffee maker and alarm clock set, so that the coffee's always exactly ready when the alarm goes off, even on the days one of you has to reset the alarm because of early calls at work. It's definitely the best present anybody has ever bought you.

You're both working, so you split the cooking and chores in a way that suits you both - you prefer cooking so you mostly do that, and Spence does most of the cleaning. He can't do his part when the team's called away of course, but he's always careful to make it up when he's home even though you told him he doesn't need to.

When you get the flu, he brings you breakfast in bed, grabbing some of his own work and sitting beside you on the bed - back against the headboard - and working right there on the bed so you don't have to be alone. When you fall asleep he keeps sitting there, long after he's finished working, because he knows that getting off the bed would wake you up and he can feel your fever where your head is resting against his hip.

His team gets called out the next day, and he apologises far too many times before he grabs his bag and leaves. You think he'd have stayed home if you'd asked, but you can look after yourself fine and you knew what you signed up for when you moved in with him. He makes you promise to look after yourself, promise to stay warm, promise to eat, promise to rest lots... at that point you push him towards the door, laughing, and tell him to stop worrying and that you'll be fine.

Not knowing if he's OK or when he'll be back sucks, but you're getting sort of used to it and you know somebody would call you if anything bad happened to him. You stock up on Tylenol and Gatorade and curl up in bed with the pile of books you've been meaning to read for months. You sleep a lot, so most of the books don't actually get read but you're too sick to care a lot anyway.

Four days later Spencer wakes you up when he gets home at 11pm. He grabs some cold pizza and then falls into bed beside you without even showering. He smells like gunpowder and burned coffee and he holds you tightly to him even after he falls asleep. You stroke his forehead and watch him sleep restlessly, wishing you could make it all better, before you drop off to sleep again yourself. 

In the morning - after a shower, some coffee, and a decent breakfast has restored him to sentience - he points out that you're coughing pretty badly and you weren't coughing when he left. You reluctantly agree to see the doctor, and somehow he sweet talks the receptionist into giving you an appointment that morning. He drives you there and even though you hate being a passenger you're too sick to care just now. It turns out Spencer's right; you have a chest infection now too.

He picks up all the prescriptions for you on the way home, gives you all the right tablets and puts an extra blanket over you. The codeine helps the aches and pains but the antibiotics made your stomach upset, and you spend a day feeling utterly wretched before you start feeling better. Spence brings in the tablets for you exactly on time, waking you up for the antibiotics even when you growl at him. After you start feeling better you're suddenly bored, and he affectionately trounces you at checkers, chess, and then backgammon for good measure.

The next morning you wander into the kitchen and find what seems exactly like your Mum's special chicken and corn soup. You panic for a moment, hoping like hell that Spence hasn't called your Mum to fly down just because you have a chest infection... but no, you see him smirk as he puts down the phone and turns to wrap his arms around you. He looks a bit sheepish, but determined too, "I called your Mum. I know you like that soup when you're sick, you told me about it when I was in hospital after the gunshot, remember?" You wince, remembering Spencer looking small and vulnerable in the white hospital bed and he continues quickly, "So I asked her how to make it and ... well, the phone bill might be a bit high this month, but I bought all the things she told me and she talked me through the cooking. Does it smell right?" 

And it does smell right and he won't let you sit at the table but tucks you up on the sofa with the brightly coloured mohair blankets and ceremoniously brings you a bowl of soup and some garlic bread, putting it carefully down on the small table beside the sofa "She said you like garlic bread with it, and garlic is good for infections, but I didn't think I could manage cooking two things at once so I bought the type you just heat up. I hope it's OK." 

You wrap both arms around his shoulders, pulling him close for a warm hug, "It smells like home, Spence." You feel him smile against your cheek as he hugs you back, arranging himself on the sofa beside you. He watches you eat, looking absurdly pleased with himself and content with the warm silence in the room. 

When you're done with the soup and have put the bowl safely down he urges you to lie down on the sofa, wrapping his lanky form around you so he's spooned up against you and your head rests on his shoulder. Feeling full and warm and contented, you fall into the best sleep you've had all week.


End file.
